


Into the Uno-Verse

by prohibitionspiderman



Series: like the stars in the sky, we could live out our lives [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, They play UNO, slight angst ?? idk noir's fuckin Sad, thats it thats the fic, there's like 3 spots where things get briefly sad but i wanted this to be soft so its mostly chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prohibitionspiderman/pseuds/prohibitionspiderman
Summary: Ham and Noir play a completely normal game of Uno to avoid talking about their feelings. Really, that's it.
Relationships: Peter Benjamin Parker & Peter Porker
Series: like the stars in the sky, we could live out our lives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842580
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	Into the Uno-Verse

When the sound of a portal opening begins behind him, Noir doesn’t even have to turn to know that it’s Ham. Already he regrets answering his message. 

“Nice to see you too, Edge,” Ham declares without waiting for acknowledgement - Noir will never understand how the guy always seems to know how he’s feeling even when he’s wearing the mask. “Well, are you going to welcome me in?” 

“You’re already inside my apartment,” Noir says, completely deadpan. 

“Fair play,” Ham replies in a voice that says he is absolutely accentuating the sentence with finger guns. Casually, he hops onto the chair across from Noir, before deciding that that won’t do and hopping onto the table. “So,” he says as he sits cross-legged, “what’s goin’ on, Edge?” He must see the denial that Noir’s already preparing, because he interrupts with, “You only reply to my messages when you’re upset, otherwise you’re MIA for days. Thus, I have deduced that you’re upset.” When Noir still doesn’t reply, he adds, “You know, when I suggested this whole nightmare deal thing, I was hoping the other party would also make use of it.” 

Somehow, Noir’s not surprised that he’s already figured out that what’s bothering him is the result of a bad dream. He’s come to learn that, despite the cartoony appearance, Ham is incredibly perceptive. And incredibly family-orientated. Which explains why he’s here in Noir’s gloomy dimension at 3:17 in the morning instead of literally any other place. 

He twists the cube in his hands. If he was going to trust anyone with details of a nightmare, then it would be Ham. But to speak it aloud - that somehow makes it feel more real. 

Ham seems to sense his indecision. “Don’t worry, Edge. I came prepared.” Before Noir can say anything, he reveals a packet of Uno cards with all the dramatic flair he’s capable of. Thankfully, despite the slight problem of the game not being invented in Noir’s dimension yet, this is one game that Ham has already introduced to him. 

“Because I am a kind pig,” says Ham as he places down a green seven, “I offer you the chance to play the first actual card.” 

Noir examines his deck, already invested. Aside from avoiding any more talk on the nightmare front, he’s not going to miss an opportunity to beat Ham at his own game. Placing another green card, he says, “You don’t stand a chance, porkchop.” 

Ham seems to light up at the challenge. “You’ll regret that, Edge.” Fast as lighting, he replaces the top card with a third card - a green four. Noir responds with a blue card of the same number. The back-and-forth continues for a while, until Ham says conversationally, “You learn quick. I showed you this game, what, once? And somehow you’ve managed to get on par with the self-proclaimed Uno king.” 

“That doesn’t bode well for your skill level.” 

Ham’s free hand shoots to his heart. “ _ Ouch _ . I don’t know if that hurt me or you more.” 

Placing a yellow draw two, Noir raises his eyebrows. “I imagine this hurts even more.” 

Ham levels him with an unimpressed look. “Unbelievable. I teach you the art of Uno, and this is how you repay me?” 

“Sorry,” Noir offers as Ham disgruntledly picks up two more cards, leaving him with eight. 

“You know,” Ham says after a moment as he studies his cards, “we should make this a thing. Can’t sleep? Play Uno. Need a break from work? Play Uno. Avoiding sappy emotional talk? Play Uno.” 

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Noir says on principle. 

Ham raises his eyebrows in response. “Uh huh. Sure.” Before Noir can reply, he slaps down a draw four card. “I call red.” 

Noir huffs in frustration. Trust his luck to have a card of every colour except red. Ham snickers at his suffering. “I used to be good at whist,” he offers as he plays another card, and without thinking he adds, “Uncle Ben taught me before...” 

And just like that the atmosphere of the room turns somber. 

Ham shuffles his cards in a way that looks deceptively easy. “You should teach me sometime,” he says instead of touching on that topic at all. “You gotta get sick of Uno eventually, right?” 

Noir studies the bright colours of his cards, trying to reorientate his thoughts. “I dunno. Uno’s fun.” 

“You say that, but you won’t think it by the three hundred and sixth time you’ve played it,” Ham says in a way that says he’s personally experienced this pain. “Uno’s a cruel mistress.” He places a draw two. Noir’s irritation must show on his face because Ham laughs again. 

Oh well. At least this loss netted him a draw four card to hit Ham with later when he least expects it. 

“What sorta games do you play here in the old times, anyway?” Ham asks as he picks out a card to play. “Card games. Whatever. I know my dimension’s Uno isn’t all that different from the others’, maybe I’ll know some of yours.” 

“It’s literally the same.” Noir chances playing a yellow card. “I expected… I dunno, more explosions?” 

“If it makes you feel better, most of the other card games from my dimension are completely over-the-top. I’m not sure you could handle it considering you’ve got the whole ‘I can die’ thing.” 

“I’ll take my chances.” 

“So.” Ham plays another yellow card. “Old timey games. Hit me.” 

Noir pauses. “Poker,” he offers after a moment, and Ham nods. “Pinochle. Canasta. I was never any good at that, though. I had a friend who played a mean game of checkers.” 

Ham looks interested. “Do you have Monopoly yet?” 

“Monopoly?” 

“I’ll take that as a no. Uno.” Ham places one of his two cards. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Uno really is the pinnacle of card games.” 

“We’re in a depression. I’ll take what I can get.” 

“Ah, well.” For a moment Ham sounds genuinely sad. “At least your good pal Ham can introduce you to the beauty that is Uno.” 

Noir can’t help but smile. “That is a highlight. Speaking of highlights.” He places the draw four card he’s been strategically holding onto all this time. “Uno.” 

For a moment Ham just stares at the card pile, blinking once. And then he sighs. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this.” Noir watches in confusion as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out what looks like a small metal case. “I introduce to you… the death card.” 

“The death card?” Noir repeats drily. “And this entails?” 

“In every deck of Uno in my lovely cartoon world,” Ham declares with all the drama of a film actor, “there exists a card that we know only as the death card. This card has many powers - some say these powers vary depending on the deck, some say this card is just so powerful that it knows its opponents’ weaknesses the moment it’s played. Personally I think it’s just all-powerful," he adds, like that's supposed to clarify anything. 

“So how does this card work?” Noir asks, already feeling tired. He’d just been beginning to think that maybe cartoon Uno didn’t hold some terrible dimensional plot twist that he hadn’t yet discovered. 

In a way that’s all too calm considering the fact that he’s handling something called ‘the death card’, Ham clips open the case, revealing a rainbow card that moves independently to hover over the pile of played cards. “The only way to defeat this card,” he says ominously, making use of a sudden torch for dramatic lighting, “is to battle it to the death.” 

There’s a moment’s silence. 

“Battle the card?” 

“Yes.” 

“To the death?” 

“Well. I may have exaggerated a little there. Until one of you is defeated.” 

“Fight the card itself?” 

“Yes, are you listening?” Ham says indignantly. “You fight him. If you win, you win the game. If the card wins however, that makes me the winner.” 

Noir reaches out a hand, touching the card cautiously. “Couldn’t you just… I dunno, rip it in half?” 

Ham gasps like Noir has just said something incredibly offensive. "You dare disrespect the card like this? If it were so easily beaten, it would hardly be the trump move that it is. No, you have to  _ fight _ it, Edge. No shortcuts." 

Noir blinks. “You said it had powers?” 

“Incredible powers,” Ham says in a dreamy voice, gazing at the card in fascination. “Be warned. This is the strongest Uno card ever made. Many have tried to fight it and failed miserably. I won’t judge you if you die-” 

And then he’s interrupted by Noir placing a glass jar over the card, screwing it shut with suspiciously little trouble. “Like that?” 

For a moment Ham just blinks. And then, in a voice that speaks of complete and utter betrayal, he says, “Are you kidding me?  _ This _ is all it takes to defeat him? All those games of Uno where I was completely and utterly defeated by this card, and all you need to do is trap him in a glass jar?” 

Noir studies the card as it bats against the glass, probably still seeking blood. “He’s pretty. Do you mind if I keep him for decoration?” 

“Far be it from me to keep you from your trophies,” Ham replies, gazing at the cards on the table with an indignant expression. “I can’t believe this. All this time. There was a way to defeat him without bloodshed.” 

Placing the jar aside, Noir asks, “You mean fighting this card regularly results in injury?” 

“The last time this card was played it was in the paper. It destroyed a whole city block.” Proudly, he adds, “I got to write the article.” 

“Just when I think I’ve heard the weirdest thing from your dimension, somehow you manage to find something else to make it even weirder.” 

“Hey, that’s my speciality!” Ham says with a grin. “So, you beat the elusive death card. How are you going to celebrate your victory?” 

Noir glances at the clock, now reading 3:48. Just reading that makes him feel tired. “Some rest would be nice.” 

Ham nods solemnly. “Good choice.” He gathers the cards on the table, returning them to the pack with what looks like little effort. “I hope this experience has imparted onto you the fantastic abilities of Uno. Appreciate it.” 

“I’ll never underestimate it again,” Noir says sincerely. 

“Good.” Ham studies him for a moment. “You sure you’re okay, Edge?” 

The question is a loaded one, but for once Noir feels like he can answer it honestly. “Yeah. Thanks, porkchop.” 

Instantly, Ham brightens. “Then my work here is done.” With an air of success he hops to his feet, pausing a moment to tap some coordinates into his dimensional transporter watch. “Text me. Seriously,” he says as the portal opens. “I’ll show up.” He salutes in the style of Peni, which Noir returns wholeheartedly. “Don’t miss next week’s meetup. If I have to help Gwen bake something for Miles’ birthday without my partner in crime I’ll be upset.” 

“You can count on me,” Noir promises with a smile. 

Ham smiles in return. “Seeya, Edge.” And with that, he hops through the portal. 

Noir stays for a moment to watch as the bubbles dissipate. Cautiously, he picks up the trapped death card, half expecting it to immediately escape from its glass prison, but it just bats against the glass. Already thinking of ways to explain a floating rainbow cartoon card with homicidal tendencies to anyone who visits (because he’s not hiding this dimensional souvenir away in some cupboard, thank you very much), he places it delicately on a sparsely decorated shelf. A faint light filters in from the window, lighting up the colours of the card. Noir watches it for a moment longer. 

Maybe next time he finds himself awake in the middle of the night, he won’t feel so bad about taking advantage of the deal. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my dude @make_or_blake for brainstorming cartoon hell uno with me because i haven't had a conversation that funny in days. also i was gonna choose some aesthetic lyric for the title but then he suggested this and i lost my shit so now this fic is named that forever  
> also i want y'all to know that the flipside of this nightmare deal thing reads as this in my notes:  
> ham, at 2am in the morning: lmao god hates me  
> noir, arriving through a portal 5 minutes later with like 3 bodies trailed behind him: i got ur message


End file.
